


Strawberry Moon

by drizzlingstars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Udai is mentioned for like .1 seconds, bokuto knows french hehe, bokuto pogi, god when, mentions of drinking, sorry this is just sickly sweet :|, this was supposed to be rated m but i realized i cldnt write smut sry, timeskip bokuaka btw, will make u feel single
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drizzlingstars/pseuds/drizzlingstars
Summary: the in-betweens
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Strawberry Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysticTwirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticTwirl/gifts).



> Happy Valentines, Ham! <3

_Scarlet-colored and heart-shaped, radiating one of the sweetest scents a fruit can bear; a surprising emblem of purity, passion and healing. A symbol for Venus herself, the goddess of love—ah, love. Is this love? The warm bubbling stir in this chest, is it not the faint residue of ingesting too much alcohol? The moon almost looks like it’s tainted strawberry. The moon! Oh my lovely moon. You have been a faithful companion of mine through the lonely nights I had to endure, and will endure. Most of my nights are spent with you, my moon. You remind me that the silence of the night isn’t as lonely when I see you right before I fall into slumber—or on nights of tight deadlines, when the nights are long and the days are short, you keep me company and remind me that this is not something I go through alone. But as much as I enjoy the company you have given me, my sweet sweet moon, I’m afraid we’ll have to spend our nights differently this time. Because my star, the star of my life, he is waiting. His arms wide open, wearing a smile that lights up even the darkest of my days. And I plan to settle in them, right under the strawberry moon._

_— An excerpt from the Romance of the Moon, 1973_

* * *

Akaashi shakes off the droplets that rested on top of his head. There was a faint drizzle, but luckily for him, it started just about a block away from his destination. He enters through the doorway, the scent of rosemary and lime tickles his nostrils, the bells chime, his ears are filled with soft jazz music—a familiar tune, quite similar to what he and Tenma listen to when writing. 

A server greets him almost right away, he greets him back and as he scans the crowd, he spots _him_ . A smile tugs on his lips and he politely returns his attention to the server and points to the grey haired man on the bar, chatting away with the bartender. The server gestures for him to enter and he makes his way towards the man at the bar, careful not to make himself look too thrilled. _Bokuto-san._ He taps on the other man’s shoulder which cuts off his lively conversation with the bartender. For a moment, he almost feels bad he halted their conversation, but as soon as Bokuto sees Akaashi, his smile mirrors Akaashi's. Bokuto grabs his hand, downs the remainder of what was left in his glass—which he learns is named _Ame—_ and thanks her. As Bokuto stood from the bar stool, he angles his arm. Akaashi lets out a laugh and links their arms together. The brief walk to their table is silent, mostly Akaashi settling into the bar’s atmosphere. They’ve been here multiple times—the warm lighted chandeliers, the faint glow of the fake candles settled on top of each table, the familiar faces of the servers, the gentle chatter mixing with the soft jazz tunes, and while nothing is new, Akaashi always finds himself having to take a moment to settle in this place, in _any_ place.

“ _Mon bon monsieur,”_ Bokuto suddenly speaks, almost interrupting his settling, but as Bokuto breaks free from their linked arms and pulls back Akaashi’s seat, Akaashi cranes his neck in amusement at the foreign language and sits down, his gaze never leaving Bokuto’s face. Bokuto sits across from him, face waiting in mild anticipation.

“ _Merci beaucoup,_ Bokuto-san.” Bokuto bursts out in a hearty chuckle, seemingly proud of Akaashi’s response. “I see you’ve started to learn some french phrases.” 

“And I’m surprised you’re also studying a bit of French!” Bokuto says, as he gestures for the server and narrates their orders. He waits until Bokuto has finished ordering before he responds.

“I figured it would make it easier for you if you had someone to practice with. Though I might not be as helpful.” Akaashi pauses and grins. Bokuto catches the grin and claps his hands.

“‘Kaashi,” Bokuto starts and waits two seconds a bit too long before continuing. “You just wanted a new party trick and learning french was a convenient answer.” It’s Akaashi’s turn to burst into a hearty chuckle and Bokuto’s face contorts into a mixture of amusement and disbelief. 

“I can’t believe you’re using me!” He dramatically pleads.

“It’s a win-win situation, Bokuto-san. You learn faster, and I learn a new party trick.” He argues back and Bokuto concedes quite easily. He waves his hands to brush it off and declares that he won’t lose to Akaashi. “You definitely shouldn’t. I’m not the one going to Paris.” And with that, Bokuto instantly gets fired up.

Their food arrives and they continue catching up with each other. Bokuto and Akaashi are not very fond of texting. They mostly do calls—audio and video—as they both think that texting can’t convey their _real feelings._ Which adds on the difficulty in communicating ever since they moved away from each other. Occasionally, when their schedules refuse to relent, they resort to sending each other pictures that would encapsulate their days. But sometimes, the never-ending struggle of having to work around their busy schedules get to them. 

Sometimes, there are nights when Akaashi ponders if this long distance thing was worth it. He’s recently had yet another internal debate about it, especially the week right before he had the chance to come down to Osaka. Bokuto’s schedule was packed, preparing for the upcoming Paris Olympics while Akaashi was swamped with multiple simultaneous deadlines. Akaashi almost thought he wouldn’t make it past that week, but being here with Bokuto, he thinks, makes everything worth it. 

Akaashi throws back his head, emptying his fifth (sixth?) tall glass of beer. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, he never kept count in the first place. Bokuto watches in amusement as Akaashi proves he’s emptied the glass by flipping it upside down on top of his head. 

“Oy oy ‘Kaashi, you might want to slow d—” Bokuto starts, but Akaashi cuts him off, with a slur.

“Ze past week was soooo tiringggggg,” Akaashi starts, “Tenma-san passed te final draft of meteo attack, and THEN!” Akaashi slams the glass on the table, surprising the nearby tables and Bokuto was quick to mutter a few _I’m sorry’s_ in Akaashi’s place. Akaashi watches Bokuto and glances around, seeing multiple eyes on them. With sleepy eyes, Akaashi mirrored—or atleast attempted to mirror—Bokuto’s apologies. Akaashi attempts to call for a server to order another glass but Bokuto stops him.

“’M fine, Bokuto-san. I’m not drunk yet.” He says, trying his best to convince Bokuto that he was, indeed, fine. Even though he was, in fact, not fine.

“Okay,” Bokuto starts, and pauses as he quickly tries to come for a compromise. “But when the hiccups start, we’re going hom—” _Hic._

 _Ah, shit. There it is_ . Akaashi thinks to himself. Bokuto raises an eyebrow, amused as Akaashi tries his best to not let audible hiccups pass through, but the occasional jerking of his shoulders says otherwise. Bokuto calls for a server and for a moment, Akaashi seems elated. He’s done it! He has convinced Bokuto that he was fine and he was going to get another glass! _Hic_. He quickly covers his mouth and pretends to look where that ever so mysterious sound came from. Bokuto looks at Akaashi from the corner of his eyes, and snickers. 

_We’re going home._ Bokuto mouths, as he’s signing the bill. Akaashi huffs for a bit before deciding to concede. Akaashi has already put on his coat and is ready to leave, waiting for Bokuto to put on his. Bokuto once again angles his arm for Akaashi’s linking. 

“ _On y va?”_ Bokuto proudly asks, which makes Akaashi giggle, high off the alcohol running through his bloodstream. 

“ _D’accord.”_ Akaashi responds, equally proud. 

They make their way outside, politely thanking the servers on their way out, promising they’ll come by again. Akaashi gives Bokuto’s arms gentle taps, a drunk habit he didn’t realize he had until this date night became a recurring event for them. As they exit the building, a cold gust of wind makes Akaashi scoot the tiniest bit closer to Bokuto. He notices that the rain has stopped, and all there’s left is the cool fresh air, the wet pavement, and the droplets of water, beading the edge of the balconies, and falling sparingly. Akaashi took off his glasses, finding it a bit of a nuisance as he rubs the sleep off his eyes. With his glasses off, the wet pavement looks like it’s glittering under the moonlight. Bokuto leads Akaashi towards his car but Akaashi pulls him back. Bokuto cranes his neck in wonder and sees the drunken flush in Akaashi’s cheek. He catches on fairly quick and they start silently walking back and forth the street, in a quiet attempt to sober up. It doesn’t take long for the buzzing in Akaashi’s head to quiet down to a soft murmur, so he leads Bokuto to the car. 

The drive back home was quiet. Well, at least for the first part. Bokuto drives in silence, mindful of Akaashi’s heightened auditory senses when he gets drunk. The sound of the engine roaring whenever Bokuto steps on the gas calms Akaashi’s heartbeat. They’re about three blocks from Bokuto’s apartment when Akaashi looks over at Bokuto, his stare making Bokuto’s skin itch. There weren’t many cars on the street so Bokuto decided to glance back at Akaashi. 

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi commands. 

“Yes?” Bokuto responds, his eyes going back and forth between the road and Akaashi.

“Why are you so sexy.” He asks in a declarative tone.

Bokuto laughs at the question and his left hand comes up to his chin, his right holding the steering wheel alone. Akaashi, still high off the alcohol, decides to grab Bokuto’s face.

“You’re doing it on purpose! Why are you so sexy!” Akaashi insists for an answer and Bokuto keeps laughing whilst trying to turn his face back to the road. There might not be many cars with them, but with the love of his life beside him, he wouldn’t want to risk anything. Besides, bigger trucks do tend to drive around this time.

“Oy oy ‘Kaashi,'' Bokuto whines, “I’m driving!” Akaashi huffs but decides to let go of Bokuto’s face. He crosses his arms and looks out of the window. _The stars seem to shine brighter in Osaka,_ he notes to himself. He dramatically sighs watching the streetlights blur as they drive past them, which makes Bokuto look at him, snickering at the theatrics of drunken Akaashi. Bokuto decides to roll down their windows, which brightens Akaashi’s face. He leans out the window, the cool air making his cheeks flush, overlapping the flush of the alcohol. Akaashi again looks up to admire the stars but he gets greeted by the fullest of full moons. His hand reaches up to the sky. He was very well aware that the attempt was futile, but the moon looked so close, and so... _pink_?

“Bokuto-san, it’s a pink moon!” He turns around to look if Bokuto’s looking, and he was, but the look on his face turns into one of confusion.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto starts, and uses one of his hands to pull Akaashi back inside. He quickly complies, his face starting to mirror Bokuto’s. “How drunk are you right now?” 

Akaashi rolls his eyes and attempts to stick his head out again when he gets yanked back by Bokuto and steals a kiss from Akaashi. Bokuto ruffles Akaashi’s hair and kisses his forehead, resting him on top of his shoulder. Akaashi wanted to prove that the moon was, in fact, pink, but the comfort in resting on Bokuto’s shoulder was enough for him to willingly lose the fight.

  
  



End file.
